


(Not) Tonight

by KatMorningstar



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, I just want this to happen, Post MSF, Reunion, happyish, hella short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-23
Updated: 2015-01-23
Packaged: 2018-03-08 18:01:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3218315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatMorningstar/pseuds/KatMorningstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of the MSF, Felicity thinks that Oliver is dead. So what does she do when she finds him in her apartment one night? And why is she not surprised to see him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Not) Tonight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thegameisonolicity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegameisonolicity/gifts).



> yoooo basically I got drunk and my grandbig demanded an olicity reunion scene. here it is. hella short. unedited. drunk. lemealone

Oliver is sitting at her bar when she opens the door. Felicity stands still for a second, and he opens his mouth to speak, but she turns to drop her purse on couch. 

“Not tonight,’ is all she says. Two words somehow carry so much weight, so much weariness. Today has been a long day. She used to embrace these visions, hallucinations, wishes-made-flesh of Oliver Queen, but not tonight. Tonight it hurts too much because she doesn’t have the energy to pretend they’re real.

He takes in a stuttering breath, so unlike the slick, self-assured Oliver of her dreams. “What are you talking about?”

Her patience is a thin rime of ice, and he’s just snapped right through it. “Goddamn it, I said ‘not tonight’.” She whips around to face him, and she holds her tears in; but she can’t keep the flush off her clenched jaw or the ache out of her voice. Her throat is raw, so she doesn’t scream when she says, “I can’t take it.” It’s almost a whisper, her voice cracking halfway through.

Oliver’s eyes-- always the realest part of him, because she’s memorized them-- crinkle in confusion, in hurt. God, if she had a dollar for every time she had seen him hurt, in her dreams or in her waking hours, she’d have enough money to... It didn’t matter, because she still couldn’t bring Oliver back. “I thought--” He breaks off as he slides a hand across his chest. With a tiny grunt of pain, he adjusts something under his shirt, just as a black-redness as pricks the fabric. Blood. 

This was new. When she first started seeing Oliver, he was broken, splintered and gasping her name. Recently, he has been whole and as perfect as he had ever been, and she isn’t sure which was worse. But this is different, and she can’t stop herself from crossing the room. Wordlessly, she covers his hand with her own, covering whatever wound it concealed. 

Her eyes flash to his almost instantly, her mouth making an O before she can think the better of it. She takes two breaths to collect her thoughts. This is either much worse than she thought, or so, so, much impossibly better. Just as she hopes, his hand stays warm and solid under hers, still thrumming with the life that has always refused to flicker. He’s here. And--

And she plants her lips on his, the way she had spent months wishing she had done before. The way she swore to herself that she would, if she somehow ever got the chance again. He wants to ask-- she can feel him murmuring against her mouth, but she’s not having it. He wants to ask, and she wants to tell him, then ask a million questions of her own; but right now, he’s real and alive, and all Felicity wants is one golden second to drink it in. 

So his lips still, and he lets her take what she needs. Because who is he kidding? He needs it too. He can tell Felicity has been haunted these past few months, and so has he. By the infinite possibilities of what he could be coming home to, what death could have followed in the wake of his own. They both need to feel life under their hollow palms, to let the nip of teeth pinch them into realizing that this isn’t a dream, so for now...questions and answers can wait.


End file.
